Ever stared at someone’s Instagram feed thinking, “Wow, they have the perfect life,” only to later discover they’re drowning in debt, miserable in their marriage, or—in the most extreme cases—hiding something truly sinister? That’s the Watts family case in a nutshell. (And if you’re anything like me, you’ve probably fallen down this rabbit hole at 2 AM at least three times.)
The Perfect Family Facade
In August 2018, Chris Watts murdered his pregnant wife Shanann and their two daughters, Bella (4) and Celeste (3), in Colorado. The case shocked America not just for its brutality, but because social media had painted them as the picture-perfect family.
Scrolling through Shanann’s Facebook was like flipping through a lifestyle magazine—smiling family photos, videos of the girls singing, posts about her successful career with Thrive. You’d never guess that behind those carefully filtered images lurked a husband plotting to wipe out his entire family for a fresh start with his mistress. (I’ve spent more hours than I care to admit analyzing these posts—Ryan now sighs dramatically whenever I mention the name “Watts.”)
The Digital Breadcrumb Trail
Shanann’s prolific posting wasn’t just building her MLM business—it inadvertently created a digital timeline that would later help investigators piece together the family’s final days. Her last public Facebook Live, showing her excitement about the baby boy they were expecting, feels especially haunting now.
What makes this case so fascinating from a true crime perspective is how the extensive documentation of the Watts family life created this bizarre juxtaposition: a woman enthusiastically sharing her seemingly perfect life while her husband was actively plotting her murder. Talk about living a double life—Chris was as subtle as a bloodstain on white carpet.
Reading Between the Likes
When you dig deeper into Shanann’s posts, subtle signs of trouble emerge. Chris appears increasingly distant in photos. Comments from Shanann hint at his emotional withdrawal. There’s a desperation in some of her captions about family unity that hits differently in hindsight.
The most chilling aspect? While Shanann documented their “perfect” life, Chris was texting his mistress Nichol Kessinger, sometimes moments after posing for happy family photos. (Would I have spotted these red flags? Absolutely. Would I have connected them to “potential family annihilator”? Probably not—and that’s the terrifying part.)
The Social Media Paradox
This case perfectly illustrates our modern paradox: we share more than ever online, yet can miss critical warning signs happening right in front of us. Shanann’s posts show a woman trying desperately to maintain the image of a happy family while her marriage crumbled behind the scenes.
The most heartbreaking posts are from her final vacation to North Carolina. While she shared photos of the girls with their grandparents, text messages revealed she was fighting to save her marriage. Chris, meanwhile, was busy searching for jewelry and vacation spots for his girlfriend.
The Aftermath Online
After the murders, Shanann’s social media became a digital mausoleum. Comments sections transformed from “Your family is goals!” to “Rest in peace” virtually overnight. Her last posts now read like tragic foreshadowing, especially ones mentioning how much she trusted Chris with their daughters.
The internet’s reaction was swift and merciless. True crime communities dissected every post, looking for clues they might have missed. Armchair detectives debated whether social media pressure contributed to the family’s problems—as if maintaining an online image somehow explained away a triple homicide. (Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Chris Watts is just a monster in human skin.)
The Lessons We Should Learn
The Watts case should make us all pause before assuming someone’s social media represents their reality. That friend posting perfect vacation photos might be miserable. That couple sharing relationship goals might be fighting nightly.
Chris Watts now spends his days in prison, where he reportedly receives love letters from women who’ve watched the Netflix documentary. (I cannot eye-roll hard enough at this.) Meanwhile, Shanann’s family continues to fight against media portrayals that they feel disrespect the victims.
The most important takeaway isn’t just “don’t trust social media”—it’s that predators like Chris Watts understand how to manipulate public perception. They know exactly what mask to wear while plotting unthinkable acts.
So next time you’re scrolling through someone’s perfectly curated feed, remember the Watts case. Behind those filtered family photos might be something much darker—or just the normal, messy reality we all try to crop out of frame.